


come on, tear me apart

by trilliastra



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek, Come Marking, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, kinda friends to lovers, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilliastra/pseuds/trilliastra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why were you thinking about my tattoo, Stiles?” He asks, making Stiles swallow and lick his lips nervously, only to be more confused when Derek follows the movement with his eyes.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>So he's not making things up.</p><p>It's mutual.</p><p>Awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come on, tear me apart

“Hey.” Stiles calls from where he was sprawled across the couch in Derek's new apartment. “Do you remember that day when you burned Scott's arm to make his tattoo stick?”

“I didn't burn him.” Derek shouts from the kitchen, Stiles can practically see the glare Derek is sending his way.

“Yes, you did. But that's not the point.” He rolls his eyes, waving absently. “Do you remember what he said when you asked what the tattoo meant?” It's something Stiles has been meaning to ask for a while but chickened out every time, scared of what Derek might answer, scared of screwing this tentative friendship they started since Derek came back to Beacon Hills. 

The thing is: Stiles is smart, he watches people and he notices things. He analyzes and thinks about everything a hundred times before coming to a conclusion, but he's not always right.

Sometimes, back when he still had feelings for Lydia his ability to read her actions would be biased by his need to think she loved him back. She'd look at him one afternoon and he would start thinking she was noticing him, she'd agree with his answer in class and his mind would go in a spree of images of Lydia declaring her love for him, saying Jackson wasn't good enough and that Stiles was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

These dreams didn't last more than two minutes, but the point is that Stiles has a history of making up scenarios where he gets the things he wants.

And he _really_ wants Derek.

“Yeah.” Derek answers, coming to the living room to stare at Stiles with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

“Did you feel the same thing when you were doing your tattoo?” He sits up. “I mean, like you were marking yourself?”

“Kind of.” He shrugs, turning to look out the window. Stiles suddenly feels guilty for asking because the look in Derek's face is sad, like he's remembering something painful. “It felt like something I needed to do. Why? You want a tattoo?”

“No!” He answers quickly. Stiles and tattoos don't mix – for starters his dad would kill him if he got one. “I was just thinking.”

“What? A conversation we had a year ago just happened to pop in your head while you were writing an essay about the male reproductive system?” 

To be completely honest, it had. Because the male reproductive system has a dick and when Stiles thinks about dicks nowadays he immediately thinks about Derek. It's a condition, really.

He's so screwed.

“Well, you know how my mind is.” He shrugs, smiling shyly, but his answers doesn't seem to convince Derek who only narrows his eyes at him.

“Right.” He says, keeps staring at him. Stiles feels like he's being analyzed from head to toe.

“It was just a question. Sorry, you can go back to your things now.” He waves, looking down at his book.

When Stiles hears Derek moving he looks up and is surprised to find Derek standing just a few inches away from him. “Why were you thinking about my tattoo, Stiles?” He asks, making Stiles swallow and lick his lips nervously, only to be more confused when Derek follows the movement with his eyes.

Oh.

_Oh._

So he's not making things up.

It's mutual.

Awesome.

“I wasn't thinking about your tattoo actually.” He says, keeping his eyes on Derek and realizing that somehow he moved closer. It would be so easy to just move his head a little to the side and nuzzle at Derek's crotch.“I was thinking about how I would like to be marked.” He grins when Derek's eyes flash with lust and his nostrils flare, no doubt smelling Stiles' arousal. “Everywhere.” He makes sure to emphasize. “By you.”

The words are barely out of his mouth and Derek is already kissing him, lips soft and rushed, licking at Stiles' bottom lip and slipping his tongue inside Stiles' mouth.

It's hot, too hot and Stiles starts to think this was an awful idea, because he's pretty sure he's going to die. Derek's finally kissing him, nipping at his lips and snaking a hand to caress Stiles' back under his shirt, and Stiles is going to fucking die.

“Jesus.” He moans, moves his own hands to grip at Derek's biceps because he dreamed of doing exactly this more times than he can count. “Bed, take me to the bed please.” Stiles pleads and Derek tilts his head to lick at Stiles' neck, presses his body closer to Stiles'. “Or couch, yes. Couch is good, so good.”

Couch is awesome, as long as Derek keeps touching him, the couch is fucking amazing. “Come on, take off your shirt.” He asks, almost begs, because Derek is not fucking moving. Stiles needs to see more, touch his skin, lick him everywhere, and Derek's not –

In one fluid movement that Stiles is pretty sure involved his amazing werewolf powers, Derek takes his shirt and Stiles', and before Stiles can blink he has a werewolf sitting on his lap, rocking their hips together and making Stiles' cock grow harder inside his pants.

“Since when?” Stiles can hear Derek ask but he's too busy trying not to come in his pants to answer. “Since when, Stiles?”

“Huh?” He asks dumbly, all blood rushed to his cock and the only thing Stiles can think about right now is taking Derek's pants off and fucking him until Derek screams.

“Since when do you want me.” Derek shifts on his lap and Stiles doesn't know how he's supposed to answer anything with Derek's cock so close to his own. Derek's hands are pinching his nipples and he keeps his mouth on Stiles' neck, worrying the skin just below Stiles' ear lobe with his teeth.

“I don't know.” He cries, squeezing Derek's amazing ass. He has this toe-curling _need_ to enjoy this as much as he can, he's still not sure he's not hallucinating. “Since the first time I saw you, probably.”

“Hmn...” Derek hums, smiles wickedly, like he already knew the answer but it's enjoying make Stiles repeat it aloud. “Two years.” He points and finally, finally brings his hands to cup Stiles' cock over his pants. “You wanted me to mark you for two years.”

“Yes!” Stiles cries because at this point he would say and do anything if it means Derek will keep stroking his cock and pressing their chests together. “Yes, two years. Jesus, move your hand!”

“In a minute.” Derek's eyes are wide and his lips are red from all the kissing, and it suddenly hits Stiles that he's not the only one affected by this. Derek looks and sounds confident about everything he's doing, making sure to focus on how much Stiles want this, but it's all an attempt to hide how much Derek himself _wants_ Stiles.

“Fuck.” Stiles curses and smiles. This is the best day of his life and Stiles definitely won't die before he gets to fuck Derek.

He refuses.

“Bed.” Derek sighs, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against Stiles' neck.

“No.” Stiles smirks, enjoying the way Derek's eyes are dark with lust when he pulls back to give Stiles a confused look. “I think I like it here.” He squeezes Derek's ass one more time before throwing Derek flat on his back on the couch, reveling in the fact that Derek let him maneuver him without any resistance.

Derek makes a noise of surprise but Stiles doesn't stop to look at him, just lowers his head to bite at the hollow of Derek's throat and then starts kissing his way down Derek's ridiculously hot chest.

The moan Derek lets out is dirty and desperate, like he never imagined something could feel this good. It only makes Stiles grow more confident, lick Derek's nipples and roll his hips slowly, teasing.

“Since when have you been imagining this, Derek?” He asks, fumbling to open the button of Derek's jeans. 

“Same.” Derek squeezes the cushion's desperately, hips giving little involuntary jerks against Stiles'. “Two years.”

“Yeah?” His words make Stiles' heart jump and Derek finally opens his eyes to look at him, smiling softly. Stiles beams at him, leans to give Derek a quick kiss before he finally starts to unbutton his jeans. “What were you waiting for, then?”

“For you to be legal.” It's Derek's answer and Stiles bites his lip. It makes him mad that after everything he's been through, Derek still can't relax and believe in the fact that he can have nice things. For months after the alpha pack, the nogitsune and Kate, Derek kept himself prepared for everything to blow up on his face. He didn't move from his shit-hole apartment, still kept wolfsbane and guns stashed behind his couch, didn't go one day without calling Scott or Stiles to know if everything was alright.

It took weeks for them to convince Derek that not everything in his life has to suck, that he gets to keep his friends and his pack, that he gets to have a nice apartment and eat home-made meals with Mrs. McCall every week and go fishing with Stiles' dad.

Derek's more relaxed now, and Stiles feels warmth spreading through his chest every time he gets to see him smiling and laughing. It's a fucking beautiful picture that Stiles wants to keep seeing _forever._

“It was so hard.” Stiles shakes away his thoughts, moves to cup Derek's cock through the fabric of his boxers. “Watching and never touching.”

“Yes.” Derek moans. “Especially when you lick your lips or bite your nails and -” He stops himself with another moan as Stiles brings his boxers down, licks a wet stripe from the head of Derek's cock to the shaft.

“Keep talking.” Stiles pleads, bites at the inside of Derek's thigh. It's so rare to hear Derek talking like this, so open and honest – Stiles never wants him to stop.“Don't stop talking.” He orders, giving a last reverent look at Derek's cock before moving to suck the head into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Derek cries, languid and obscene, tangling his hand in Stiles' hair. 

Derek tastes _amazing._ Like musk and sweat, but so Derek it assaults all of Stiles' senses, making his head dizzy and his cock grow harder inside his pants. “Fuck, Stiles. Don't stop.” 

It's not Stiles' first time giving a blow job but he never enjoyed it this much, his cock is so hard it's starting to hurt and Stiles thinks he could come just from this, with the heavy feeling of Derek's cock inside his mouth and listening to his moans. He squeezes Derek's thighs to stop him from moving, relaxes his jaw and slowly starts to take Derek's cock deeper.

“Jesus Stiles.” Derek shouts, thighs shaking and hands scrambling to hold everything in his reach – Stiles' hair, his shoulder, the couch. “I just – I don't -” He keeps moaning and Stiles pulls back to mouth at Derek's balls. He wants to do everything with Derek tonight, wants to memorize his taste and his smell, find out what he likes and where Stiles can touch to make him moan louder.

“I want to fuck you.” He says, teasing the head of his cock again, sucking it slowly, bringing one of his hands to stroke Derek's thigh slowly. “I want to fuck you.” He repeats, desperate for Derek's answer. “Please say I can. Please.”

“Yes.” Derek smiles, dizzy. A drop of sweat forming on his forehead. “Fuck me.”

–

While Derek gets the lube Stiles gets rid of his stupid clothes, smirking when Derek stops to stare at his ass. “Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows, watches Derek's ears turn an adorable shade of pink.

“Yes.” Derek nods, walking back to the couch and throwing the lube and some condoms at Stiles'. Stiles can't help but smile again, this time not entirely dirty just – happy. “You?” 

“Absolutely.” Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's neck and moves closer to kiss him again. He licks at Derek's bottom lip as Derek circles Stiles' waist with one arm. “You're so beautiful.”

“I know.” Derek mumbles, making Stiles laugh at the unexpected joke. “Now do something.”

“In a hurry, are we?” He teases, thumbs at Derek's eyebrow lovingly. Derek closes his eyes, sighs against Stiles' hand. “I'll take care of you.”

“I know.” When Derek opens his eyes again, they are shining and he has a little a smile on his face. Stiles swallows and for the first time since they first kissed he feels anxious. Derek is trusting him with this side of him and Stiles doesn't know if he's going to be good enough for him. “Hey, it's okay. Just go slow.”

“Yeah.” Stiles sighs, takes a deep breath. “Okay. Lie down for me, please?”

Derek smiles before complying, rests his head against the couch and spreads his legs so Stiles can settle between them. Fuck, Stiles thinks, admiring Derek's torso and his cock laying beautifully between his legs.

Slowly, he touches Derek's calf, pressing a kiss against the delicate bones of his feet and Derek shivers under him. He hikes Derek's leg over one shoulder, smiling when Derek moans his name again.

“You look so beautiful like this.” Stiles says, feeling like Derek should know this – Derek should know he's beautiful and deserves all the happiness in the world, and Stiles wants to be part of it – wants to make him happy too.

“You too.” Derek whispers, watching Stiles intently. His cheeks are red and his forehead is shining with sweat – he looks almost desperate.

“I know.” He mocks, and Derek throws his head back, laughing happily whilst Stiles runs one hand up Derek's leg in a soft caress. “You tell me if I hurt you?”

“You won't. I heal, remember?

“No.” Stiles says, suddenly sad because Derek shouldn't be used to feeling pain. “Don't use your werewolf powers as an excuse. I want you to feel good.” He looks up to Derek's surprised expression, gives him a small smile and gets another smile in return. 

Derek is warm and tight inside, and as Stiles moves his finger around, teasing at the rim, he wonders how it would feel to take his finger out and slip his cock instead, no prep – just fuck Derek like this, still so tight.

He tries to shake those thoughts away, and palms his cock, hoping it will get the clue that Stiles can't come just yet. “Good?”

“So good.” Derek cries, hands squeezing the arm-rest as he gives Stiles a lazy smile. “Another.”

“But –” 

“It's not my first time.” Stiles doesn't even try to hide his jealousy and if this began as wanting to be marked by Derek, it quickly shifted into Stiles wanting to own Derek – not just his body, but all of him.

“Okay.” He takes his finger out, flinching at the noise of protest Derek lets out, but quickly comes back with two. It's tighter than before but so, so good. 

Stiles moves his fingers around, stretching Derek's hole, gets him slick and wet as Derek keeps crying out his name, begging for more. “Faster.”

“Fuck.” Stiles adds a third finger, watching intently as they disappear inside Derek and the lube leaks out. His mouth waters with want, but he doesn't know if he would be able to taste Derek again without coming. Stiles crooks his fingers, tries to make the preparation faster and Derek arches his back, thrusting back as he tries to get more of Stiles inside him. “Fuck. Derek, can I –”

“Yes, yes. Fuck me.” Stiles takes his fingers out quickly, reaching out to grab the condom, but Derek stops him with a hand on his arm and shakes his head. “Can't catch diseases, if you don't –”

“Oh thank god.” Stiles smiles, leaning down to kiss him. “I've been dying to come inside you.”

“God, you're going to kill me.” Derek runs his hands down Stiles' back, human nails scratching his skin, and squeezes Stiles' ass – urging him closer. Stiles still can't believe this is how he's spending his afternoon.

He pushes his cock inside Derek slowly, watches Derek's face intently for any sign of pain. Before he's all the way inside he needs to stop and take a deep breath, tries to control himself and then starts to pray – like he never prayed before – for him to last long enough to fuck Derek. “Jesus, you're so tight.”

Derek nods. “Move.” And Stiles will be damned before he denies something to him. Derek is ruining him and Stiles is sure the fucking asshole knows it.

As Stiles starts to move, Derek tightens his legs around Stiles' waist and tries to match the frantic rhythm of Stiles' thrusts. “You – fuck. So hot. Kiss me, kiss me.” He's not ashamed by the way he begs because Derek tastes delicious and the way he kisses Stiles – like he wants to devour him – is sinful.

Stiles feels the orgasm building, and he closes his eyes, thrusting deeper because he wants Derek to come first, wants Derek to spill his come all over Stiles and rub it all over Stiles' chest. He wants to be marked and he wants to mark. “So good, Derek. I need to –” He opens his eyes, angles for Derek's prostate and bites at Derek's neck, worrying the skin with his teeth and sucking at the mark because he knows it's going to disappear but he wants it to stick just a little bit longer –

“Keep going.” Derek begs. “Don't stop fucking me, don't stop.” His eyes are open, pupils dilated with lust and his cheeks are flushed. He shoves one hand between them to stroke his own cock, cursing every time Stiles' cock brushes against his prostate. 

“Come, Derek. All over me. Just –” He closes his eyes, pounding into Derek, desperate and so close.

“Yes!” Derek shouts, spilling come over Stiles' chest, using one hand to rub it on Stiles' neck and shoulders too, before offering his hand to Stiles.

Stiles doesn't even need to think twice before he's licking Derek's hand, the taste of come heavy against his tongue. He moans loud, thrusts faster, and then he's coming so hard he swears he can see fucking _stars_ , biting at Derek's hand to muffle his scream.

–

“I'm getting all sticky.” Stiles sighs against Derek's chest.

Derek snorts, runs a hand through Stiles' back. “Do you want to move?”

“No.”

“Then stop complaining.” Derek rolls his eyes when Stiles smacks his chest and kisses Stiles' temple anyway.

“Am not complaining.” He mumbles, nuzzling at Derek's chest and pressing small kisses against his neck. “Just informing. I could get used to having your come all over me.”

Derek laughs and Stiles thinks he could get used to this too, Derek smiling and laughing and holding his hand after a date. “Good, because I won't stop doing it.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nods, bites his lip to stop the words of coming out of his mouth. Sex is okay, sex is good and Derek seemed to like it, but Stiles is not sure if a sudden _I love you_ would be welcome right now.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiles, kissing Derek one last time before climbing off of the top of his body. “I think I should go.”

Derek's face falls, and he blinks. “Do you want to go?”

“I don't know.” He answers hopeless, running a hand through his hair. “This is getting weird.”

His words seem to strike something inside Derek, because he's immediately on his feet and looking at Stiles with a mixture of anger and disappointment. “You made it weird.” He says, and Stiles wants to deny but he knows it's true.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, even if it's not going to solve anything. “I'm just confused, I guess.

“You? Confused?” Derek spits, making Stiles flinch at the sudden outburst. “How do you think I feel? One moment we're having sex and the next you're practically running away! Was this a joke to you?”

Stiles shakes his head, standing too. The look on Derek's face is devastating and Stiles feels like such a fucking asshole. “No! Of course not!”

“Then what? You wanted to have a sex buddy and decided to ask me?”

“I'm in love with you!” Stiles shouts, and immediately clamps a hand over his mouth. “I'm sorry, I didn't –”

Derek narrows his eyes at him, and Stiles feels like crying. “Didn't mean to fall in love with me or tell me about it?”

“Both, I think.” He wipes a stupid tear off his eye, and starts to gather his clothes just to avoid looking at Derek.

“You're an idiot.” Derek laughs, making Stiles' heart clench.

“I know.”

“No, you don't.” He shakes his head, cups Stiles' face with both hands. “I'm in love with you, too.”

Stiles drops his clothes on the floor, mutters a dumb _oh_ and stares at Derek until he starts laughing.

And what a beautiful laugh he has.

“Yeah. Oh.” It's Stiles' turn to laugh. “Are you going to stay now?”

He kisses Derek's hand, his cheek, and finally, his mouth.“Only if it's forever?” 

Derek nods, nips at Stiles' jaw. “Duh.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting this after deleting and editing and trying to make it better (I changed the title too because I don't remember how I named it before, heh. I'm a mess). I'm kind of trying to improve my porn-writing skills and even though this story sucks, I decided to throw it out there because well - feedback is always welcome.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Comments and kudos are always welcome!


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